


In Your Shoes

by OakwoodOuroboros



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 00:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20126584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakwoodOuroboros/pseuds/OakwoodOuroboros
Summary: Adora moves to the countryside after having spent her whole life living in the city, and unwillingly starts a feud.





	In Your Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> Uh so this is a tryout of kinds, this is like Something Seems Off I guess, as in I make things up as I go along. Anyway, enjoy!

The one thing Adora hated more than hay fever was the countryside. Not only was it the land of the aforementioned illness, but it was also the most boring, uninteresting place that she could possibly think of being. She was a citygoer by heart; the malls, the skating rinks, the gyms, all of these places she loved and simply couldn't get enough of.

As the leader in several teams however, it was not rare for her to have to set out on interminable bus trips throughout the country, and thus leaving her hometown. Of course, they usually ended up in other cities for the matches themselves, but in the meanwhile they had to drive through the vast swathes of countryside that just made Adora want to itch and scream. Suburbia wasn't so bad, the quiet neighbourhoods their bus crept along at three in the morning after a long day of matches and re-matches clean and peaceful, but clearly not comparing to the rush and bustle of the city centre.

All this, and she had to be the one being shipped off to a foster home in the middle of nowhere.

For the hundredth time that evening, Adora huffed. The driver remained silent, and the blonde girl leaned knees against the back of the seat in front of her, that was fortunately the passenger one.

"Don't slouch, my dear Adora," Weaver tutted. "You must act your very best for your new foster family."

The girl straightened up, shooting Weaver a dark look.

"There there, if you keep that up you'll have to come back into my care. We don't want that, do we?"

Of course she wanted it. It had been with a great deal of complaining that Mrs. Weaver had allowed Adora to be fostered by a single woman, her face unknown but already hated intensely by the blonde teenager. Mrs. Weaver's institution was far from perfect, but at least she got the shoes she wanted for her birthday, an allowance, and her friends. Not that she would miss them, but they were all she had. At sixteen years old, she would have never thought that she would have been considered for foster care or adoption of any kind. She had been told so much during her whole life that this was her one chance, her one way out, and yet no one had stopped and thought that maybe she didn't mind the hand that she was dealt.

Soon, they would arrive at the place she dreaded so much, and this charmed life that she considered to have been living would be ripped away from her.

And surely enough, as soon as they pulled up in the driveway in front of the house (Adora hadn't been looking out the window, so she wasn't so sure what the countryside around the house looked like), the athletic girl stepped out of the car and straight into a cow pat.

What the pile of manure had been doing there, she had no idea, but the fact of the matter was her Nikes were now ruined. She remained there, stunned for a second, before carefully lowering her other foot away from the offending pile, then stepping out of it.

The house was simple and small, more of a cottage than anything else. Adora checked her phone; no signal, of course. Every passing second she was getting more and more angry, angry at Mrs. Weaver, at her unknown foster mother, angry at _herself_ for leaving her friends behind, for abandonning so quickly, for abandonning Ca-

"Well hello there, young lady."

Adora looked up, keeping all her emotions inside but for a frown that she displayed as freely as her forehead. The woman was... Well, she was much younger than she expected. She wasn't middle-aged as Adora had expected her to be, but she had a smile that could cut through steel and an outfit more worthy of a business lady rather than a farmhand.

Mrs. Weaver also raised an eyebrow at the woman's get-up. A flicker of hope ignited in Adora's chest: maybe this woman worked in the city, maybe she would allow her to see her friends, go to her clubs, attend her old high school!

"You can come in, Adora, Mrs Weaver."

With a renewed vigour Adora entered the home, which was much cooler on the inside than in the blazing sun of the courtyard. In fact, it was so chilly that she thought that there was probably an AC in the place, were it not for her roaming eyes not finding one as she scanned the ceiling.

"Please Adora, can you wipe your feet? You have a bit of muck there."

"Not my fault, miss," the teen muttered back, but the woman acted like she hadn't heard her.

They were led into a small room, and Adora's heart began to sink back where it had been laying before she had gotten her hopes up. The room was decorated with sprigs of dusty corn ears, just the thing to trigger her allergies. Before they were set off she hid her face in her elbow, waiting for a soon-to-come sneeze or coughing fit.

"Please sit, would any of you like some tea?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Hope," Mrs. Weaver answered as politely as she could through her gritted teeth.

"Me neither," answered Adora. An uncomfortable silence fell over them, the cold rebuke of hospitality building tension in the air with every passing second.

"Well, fair enough. Anyhow, we still need to discuss some details, then you can settle down Adora, alright?"

"I'd rather get my stuff now and get sorted by myself, thank you," the blonde answered, her breathing stiff and her voice even stiffer. "If it's all the same to you, Mrs. Hope."

"Alright, the layout of the house is fairly straightforward, your room is the one with the single bed. If you want anything, please call for me, OK?"

"Sure."

The athlete left the room in a huff. She already hated this place, she already hated Mrs. Hope. Surely there was nothing worse than the country air, and nothing worse than this tiny house in the middle of nowhere. She wanted out of here, and even though she knew that by now that was not a possibility, she still hoped beyond hope that she'd be able to get back into town somehow. The walk to the car wasn't that long, but in the summer heat it felt so much harsher.

She opened the boot of the car with a flick of her volley-trained wrist and lifted her bag onto the ground, skirting another cow pat as she did.

"You know, stepping in those means good luck."

Adora looked up sharply, expecting to see someone, but all she was greeted with was the dusty courtyard spotted here and there with manure.

"Up here!"

"Bow!"

"Sorry Glimmer, I just..."

She didn't hear what else was being said, as the duo resorted to having a whispered argument from then on. However, the so called 'Bow''s interruption of her task at hand had given away their position, and Adora could only watch in awed silence as a boy and a girl squabbled on the roof of the hen-house. One of them was quick to fall off, followed by the other as they wrestled in the dust at Adora's feet. The blonde looked at them in surprise, then in disgust at the dust they raised, and took a step back, picking up her bag on the way back to the house.

If this was what life in the countryside was going to be like, she was going to ask Mrs. Weaver to take her back right this instant. She knew exactly what she was going to say too, that she was scared for her safety. It hurt her pride as a black belt judoka, but there was nothing to be done about it.

"Wait! We wanted to talk to you!"

Adora spun around on her heels to face the duo. She had been keeping her anger in for a while now, but these two were starting to get on her nerves. She didn't frown this time, she _snarled_.

"You two are making my bad day so much worse, can you just shut up?"

She sounded like her. She sounded just like Catra.

With tears in her eyes, Adora sped off towards her new home, her new life and left behind the people who she would come to call her friends.


End file.
